keep breathing.

I have very few words this week. The only two words that come to mind consistently these days are pray and breathe. And keep going. And maybe just keep swimming.

Where has your heart been this week? 

satisfy.

I feel the need to be honest with you. The past day and a half have been full of fear, a lot of worry, questions, and attacking anxiety over the unknown and the next chapter of my life.

I want to be honest and clear on this blog that I believe life to a beautiful mess. I don't know how often or how well I convey that to you. Sometimes I think what I write is too Pollyanna; neatly wrapped into presents and sprinkled with positivity. Being completely honest, there are so many moments in this season where it's hard to grip positivity. Some days, it's much easier to hold onto fear, worry, and anxiety.

Anxiety about a growing to-do list and decreasing time to actually do (I'm sure you can all relate to that). Worry about how I can possibly combine all of my passions in the next season. How will my passion for Young Life intertwine with my passions to teach special education and serve students in urban settings? Is there a way to make all three work together? Fear is crippling my mind into thinking that I won't get a job, doors won't open, and I'll somehow end up in a place that prevents me from becoming and moving and growing. Some days, it's so disheartening to have no clue how the next stretch of time will unfold. I can sit here tonight and envision a myriad of different scenarios with no idea where and how and when to approach which one. When will doors start opening? When will way make? When will I feel like I am making progress, moving forward?

Last night, I was thinking through all of these things; feeding fear and anxiety and worry. This song came on my iPod while I was at the gym. The prayer coming out of this song is so simple, yet poignant. Satisfy. Satisfy me Lord.

I looked up the definition of the word satisfy. A quick Google search tells me that satisfy means to meet expectations, needs, or desires. Yes, satisfy me Lord. Wherever the next chunk goes, satisfy me Lord. Wherever I end up, satisfy me Lord. Wherever this path goes, satisfy me Lord. May I - you, we - find satisfaction in His plan which is so much greater than ours. May we find satisfaction in His timing, which rarely aligns with our timing. May we be satisfied by His promises that there is something great to come. May we be satisfied in His faithfulness through all of our days.

Amen? Amen. This teacher is off to bed!

happy valentine's day.

I hope you had an awesome Monday. I'm pretty pleased with CPS, seeing as they gave us the day off school to celebrate Lincoln's birthday. I celebrated by attempting to sleep in (and woke up at 6:45 this morning, urrgg), catching up with friends, catching up on work, grocery shopping, and going to class. I partied hard for Lincoln. How did you celebrate your Monday?

Now, more importantly, tomorrow is Valentine's Day! Can I get a high-five for valentines made with macaroni, sugar highs, red roses, and corny romance movies? I don't personally care for this holiday much, but it's infinitely more fun now that I have students and a whole day to plan valentine-themed activities, games, and songs. Tomorrow in room 104, we'll be baking and decorating heart-shaped cookies, singing songs, reading stories, and passing out treats in the afternoon. You wish you could be there, I know.

Instead of making progress on things like job applications, my IMPACT project, and lesson planning this weekend, I decided to search Pinterest for what to make my students for Valentine's Day. Heart-shaped crayons are all over the internet, so I thought I would give them a try this weekend.

The instructions are pretty simple. You need old crayons, a heart-shaped mold, and an oven. Peel the paper off the crayons and break them up into little pieces. I split mine up into color families. I have seen a few tutorials online that mix all of the colors together for a wild, rainbow crayon. I like the color families. Totally your choice though. Then, you heat your oven to 300 and bake your crayons for 15 minutes. If you're anything like me, you will check the oven every two minutes to make sure it's actually working. Just a heads up, it actually works. Then you take your wonderful, heart-shaped crayons out of the oven, let them cool for about 30 minutes, and ta-da ... you will be the coolest, craftiest person around.

To finish off the valentines for my students, I printed some valentine-themed coloring and matching pages. Overall I think this is a great way to use old crayons, and for students who have difficulty holding a regular crayon or pencil, the heart is easier to grip. Happy crafting! 

As one of my students says almost everyday, it's going to be a busy, busy day. Tomorrow will be a busy day. It will be full of red and pink, sugar, silly songs and activities, and celebrating our classroom community. I hope that your day is full of hearts and happy. I hope that in the midst of class or work, you recognize how deeply loved you are. I hope you slow down tomorrow and reflect on the ways your heart is full; full of love and full of joy and full of life. 

Happy Valentine's Day! How will you celebrate?

comparison, joy, & the unknown.

When we're walking into the unknown, it's easy to get lost in comparison. It's easy to look around and decide that what we're doing isn't right because it's not the same as the people next to us. The truth is, when we're walking into the unknown, the only path we can carve is our own. And I think there's joy to be found in the journey of the unknown. But don't mistake happiness for joy. Joy is different than happiness.

"Joy is having hope in the face of darkness and tragedy (and dare I say the unknown), and living life with a grateful heart for all of the things we do have, rather than focusing on all that we don't." - darling magazine

Joy is lasting, rooted. Joy is hope, freedom, becoming, depth. But comparison kills joy, and in the wake we're left with insecurity and doubt. With insecurity and doubt on our backs, walking through the unknown becomes incredibly more daunting and heavy.

When I'm teaching, my students get choices. They can choose to participate in activities or sit alone. They can choose to follow the rules or sit alone. They can choose how they want to behave, act, and engage in the school day. I think the same logic is applied here. We can choose how we want to behave, act, and engage in the unknown. We can choose to follow the way of comparison, or we can choose to believe that we're each forging our own path. We can choose insecurity and doubt, or we can choose joy. We can choose to believe that we're doing something wrong, or we can choose to believe that we're each telling our own story and no one can write it for us.



How will you engage in the unknown? 

into the unknown.

I wrote last week about feeling ankle deep. Ankle deep in new, unknown territory. Ankle deep in experience. Ankle deep and anticipating when the waves will crash and the ground make way. Over the weekend, facing the unknown consumed my thoughts, journal entries, and conversations. Truth is, there's no way around the unknown. Not in our thoughts, not on our blogs, and certainly not in our lives.

Gnawing at my heart all weekend was the truth that I am not done writing about the unknown and I am not done facing it in my life. Although right now I am entering into the unknowns of teaching, a new role in ministry, and life post-graduation, I am certain that the unknowns will not cease. They will keep coming each year, each season. If it's not here, it's there. Or somewhere in the future. For you, maybe it's moving to an unknown city. Maybe it's applying for college. Maybe it's your first job. Maybe it's your first relationship. Maybe it's marriage. Maybe it's parenthood. Maybe it's a career change. Maybe it's retirement. I don't know what walking into the unknown looks like for you, but I'd be willing to bet that in some area of your life, you're experiencing it.

Here's my question, what does it really mean to walk into the unknown? What does it mean to walk faithfully into the unknown? What does it feel like to deeply move through the unknown? What are the emotions that we experience? How do we walk into the unknown steady? How do we get there with humility - aware of the fact that the story isn't actually about us, but that we're a part of something bigger? How do we approach the unknown with an eager, open spirit even though we may be trembling with fear?

This is some of where my heart and my mind were this weekend. For the next few posts or maybe longer, I'm going to be exploring the unknown; through word, song, image. That cool with you? I sure hope so. I don't know where this journey will take us, but I hope you'll join me in exploring and experiencing the unknown in the fullest way possible.

Tonight I thought I'd share this print from Pinterest. These days, it seems like everyone has an opinion about the way I'm stepping into the unknown. Maybe you feel that way, too; like everyone has an opinion. I'm starting to trust and believe that even if I don't know what's around the next corner, I'm on my own journey. In those moments, I'm learning to take a step back and take a deep breath. It's okay to not have the answers, but part of walking faithfully into the unknown is trusting that the direction you're headed, though a mystery, is the right direction for you.

Here's the to unknown; to clenched fists, deep breaths, and big jumps. Here's to learning and experiencing faithful and steady steps into the unknown. Here's to trusting that we're going in the right direction.

ankle deep.

"In your ocean, I'm ankle deep

I feel the waves crashing on my feet

It's like I know where I need to be

But I can't figure out, yeah I can't figure out

Just how much air I will need to breathe

When your tide rushes over me

There's only one way to figure out

Will you let me drown, will you let me drown?"

Right now, I am ankle deep. Ankle deep in experience. Ankle deep in emotion. Ankle deep in unknown territory. Ankle deep in change, in movement. Ankle deep in uncertainty, in excitement, in the joy and hopefulness of a new season. In some ways, I feel completely submerged, all in and just about pushed to my limit. And in other ways, I can recognize that I'm just getting started. That this experience, this chapter, this season or chunk or forthcoming or change ... is just barely beginning. I am only skimming the surface, and I have no idea how much air to hold in when the waves really begin crashing and the newness and change start to envelop me like the current of the ocean. 

In the very little that I know about life, I know that God is faithful. I know that change is hard and change is good. I know that if I want honest transformation and genuine becoming, hard and uncomfortable are a part of the deal. I know that if I want to live a deeper story, I have to live a deeper story. I have to live hard, live uncomfortable, live unknowns. I don't get to live a deeper story by walking through a life without emotions or extremes.

I want to choose movement. I want to choose change. I want to choose uncomfortable. I want to choose these things, and I want to live them. Really, really live them. And right now, I think it would be so much easier to give up, to let the ocean win by tossing me around and spitting me out. Quite frankly, it would be easier to run away from the ocean altogether. But as a person who wants to grow and become, I want to lay myself wide open to the possibility of this season. I want to take a deep breath and go for it. No clue how much air to breathe, how long I'll be under water, or what the waves will feel like. 

"Unclench your fists. Unlock your knees and also the door to your heart, take a deep breath, and begin to swim. Begin to let the waves do their work in you." - Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet 

Go down to my playlist, press pause, and listen. You'll want to. I promise.